


Can You Feel My Heart?

by Lion_owl



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Kohlinahr, M/M, Song-inspired, Song-related, Star Trek I: The Motion Picture, Vulcan customs, Vulcans, inspired by the bmth song of the same name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:43:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8512132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lion_owl/pseuds/Lion_owl
Summary: Spock reflects as he prepares himself to undergo Kolinahr.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on the KS Archive in 2015. I have now been deleted it from there.

The runabout's corridors were empty as the small handful of people travelling from Earth to Vulcan retired for the night. There were two pilots and ten passengers.

Spock was among them.

He lay in his bed, in the darkness, in the silence, and he felt them as though they were tangible; they were painful, as was what he was about to do. But he knew it had to be done.

He was no longer fit to remain in any of the places he had once called home: his parents' house on Vulcan, Starfleet, the Enterprise, Jim's arms.

No longer stable.

The strain had been bearing down on him for weeks towards the end of their five-year mission, tearing him apart inside, and the imminent destruction of his controls had been catalysed with finality by that dreadful mission on Kappa Stronti III -- taking his bond with Kirk, his anchor, in the process.

Now he was, for want of a better word, broken.

He could not protect himself or others from his emotions any more.

If there was anything left for him now, it would be at Gol.

It wasn't logical to feel hopelessness in this situation, since there are always alternatives, but his reign on logic was at present in tatters so he gave into the senseless wallowing.

Could the Masters of Gol really fix him, fix this hopelessness?

He rolled off the low mattress to the floor, landing in a kneeling position and begged whatever higher power that may or may not be out there to help him, to forge a new path for him; to heal his dying katra and find a way for him to return to the life he knew.

Would Jim wait for him, or would he have moved on?

He closed his eyes in an attempt to defend against that thought, something he had often observed Humans do. It was, of course, futile; he could not shake the image of his t'hy'la in the arms of another.

It would not be fair of him to expect Jim not to move on and rebuild his life.

Spock had left him, left all of them, and silently whispered an apology to the friends of his past life: McCoy, Scott, Uhura, Chekov, Sulu, even Chapel.

But most of all, to Jim.

To his lover.

He had departed too abruptly, and he regretted that, but he had been left no choice; he was just glad he'd been given a chance to explain himself to Jim, to reassure his old Captain it was not his fault, and for them to make love one last time before he had gathered his things from their shared temporary lodgings and made for the vehicle upon which he now travelled back to the world of his birth.

Once settled in his quarters on the runabout, he had contacted his parents over a secure subspace channel, since he would not be visiting them when he arrived on Vulcan, he informed them of his plans in this manner.

_"Forgive me, father," he had spoken in quiet tones once he had finished recounting the events which had led to this. In the times during and immediately after Surak's reform, Kolinahr was a regular occurrence among the emergence of a new society, but now performances of the ritual were few and far between; the savage past of Vulcan was long buried and they were supposed to be capable of controlling their emotions without assistance._

_"I love you, mother," he had then stated, his voice barely above a whisper. It was the first time he had ever, in his entire life, spoken this aloud, and it drew several small tears from her eyes._

_"Why do you have to go, Spock?" She had asked, crying, begged him to stay._

_"Goodbye, both of you, live long and prosper." He had held his hand up in the ta'al then terminated the communication without another word._

He had been totally alone in the three point eight days since, he had not left his quarters once to interact with anyone else aboard the vessel, had not contacted or been contacted by anyone over subspace, nor had any desire to speak with anyone.

It had been four point two days since he had eaten and five point nine since he had slept. He still didn't feel like eating, but the lack of sleep was finally catching up with him, so with great effort he got to his feet and stripped off, uncharacteristically letting his clothes fall to the floor messily.

As he got under the covers it occurred to him that he only ever abandoned his clothes like that when he and Jim were frantically making love, and the stabs of pain in his side worsened at the thought.

He missed his t'hy'la desperately.

Constantly, his pain lurked in the silence where he heard Jim's voice calling out to him, in the darkness where he saw Jim's face as he had cried when Spock had told him he was going away.

Like a vulture stalking a weakened animal, his pain preyed upon him, watching, and waiting.

But this would not be the end.

His heart would beat steadily once more, one day.

That belief eased him into sleep, but when he awoke the following morning his uncertainty returned. In two days he would arrive on Vulcan, and he would probably never leave the planet again.

As the time neared, he started to feel scared.

Purely, undeniably. It was a fear he had only felt on very few occasions, and on all but this one he had capably blocked it out in order to function.

He suddenly wished it was all over, wished he no longer felt anything, wished for the Kolinahr to be complete. Until this moment, he would have preferred to go back to a time before the disaster which tore his bond and his heart apart, but now the miniscule amount of logic left to him was taking over and he wished to be finished with this escapade.

All would be better then, right?

He wasn't totally convinced, but it might get him through the remainder of the journey a bit more easily, now feeling more certain he was doing the right thing.

Wasn't he?

Vulcans had a shameful tendency to sometimes believe themselves to be superior when their ability to control the output of their emotions proved immensely helpful in difficult situations, and what he was about to go through was the highest of all controls; did he believe he was elevating himself above the version of him which had allowed his Humanity some scope? And consequently, was he in fact sinking below that version of him?

It didn't really matter. His emotions were a danger to him and those around him now that his bond with Jim had been damaged, potentially irreparably. There was no other option.

Little did he know at that time the bond would fix itself in time, once the questions he wasn't aware he had were answered, little did he know he would never be able to achieve that which he currently sought, and nor was he consciously aware of Jim's mind reaching out to him through what was left of what they had, that Jim could feel his heart.

In the mean time, he had an appointment, and he was finally ready to attend it.


End file.
